Free Paradise Gold: The Mafia and Nazis battle for the biggest prize of World War II (Ben Peters Thriller series Book 2) by Vic Robbie Page A

Americans?’
    He sighed. Although he understood the political ramifications, at times he was disappointed at his countrymen’s tardiness. ‘He’s coming after us.’
    ‘Exactly.’ Smee studied him intently. ‘Do you know what Hitler’s plan for Britain was? Is, I should say, he could still invade us. First, his forces would execute all intellectuals, free thinkers, troublemakers, writers and the like. Then all Jews, gypsies, disabled, and the aged would be killed. All able-bodied men from the age of fifteen would be shipped to camps in Europe where they’d be forced to work as slave labour. The cream of the SS would impregnate all women of child-bearing age and with the right genetic make-up, fair and blue-eyed. Start a new race. The British as a race would be wiped out. That would be his plan for America as well.’
    Smee broke off to taste the tea and commented: ‘Not bad, not bad at all. Now, why are you here? Pretty straightforward what we’re asking you to do. No danger. No danger at all. Just playing an observational role.’
    ‘Is that all?’ He knew there would be more to it. There always was.
    ‘Let me continue, old boy.’ Smee raised a hand. ‘Go to Martinique. Be our eyes and ears–’
    ‘I understand that bit.’
    ‘We Brits have no official standing on the island. Effectively, we’re at war with them. Martinique is a hotbed of intrigue. Visitors of many nationalities there. You must work alone and be independent. Even of any fellow Americans. You are a writer. Researching a new book about Martinique. We’ve beefed up your CV if anyone wants to do a bit of digging. Emily will give you a copy. List of books you’ve written. Publishers. That sort of thing. Not that anyone will. All straightforward. Nothing to worry about. Your cover will allow you to wander about the island. Look at things and ask questions. Arranged for a local journalist to be your guide.’
    ‘What about the U-boats?’
    ‘Quite.’ Smee spread his arms and leant back in his chair, which squeaked ominously. ‘Like the sound of that. Thinking on your feet. Keep an eye on the boats coming in and out of the harbour. If you pick up anything about the U-boats, marvellous. Don’t want you to be proactive. Don’t break into the quay where the U-boats are moored or anything stupid like that. Just who is coming and going? What’s the mood of the locals etcetera. One thing I need more information on. When the U-boats come into harbour, they’re screened off from the local people and even the French military. There are sounds of machinery. Believe there is some kind of engineering work being done to the U-boats. Perhaps to enable them to transport the gold.’
    Smee let the information sink in and knew there was going to be much more to this than had been disclosed.
    ‘And how do I get information to you?’
    ‘Wireless. Can’t take it with you. They’ll search your baggage. We’ll get one to you on the island. Report in when you have something to tell us. Ration your messages. Germans will be able to track radio traffic from the island. Each time you send a message deliver it from a different location. Want you to stay here until you get up to speed on the wireless. All the usual bits and pieces. Nothing to worry about, old boy. My grandmother could do it.’
    He asked several more questions and Smee answered them all stressing the mundanity of the project like someone selling a house and ignoring the rising damp by saying it had been raining.
    ‘Emily, Emily,’ Smee shouted again and she trotted into the room clutching a large manila envelope and thrust it into Ben’s hands. ‘Good, good. All in there, bit of light reading,’ he said. ‘Probably a good time to be out of London anyway.’
    ‘How so?’
    ‘Could be a bit dicey. We have intelligence that the Jerries are developing a new weapon. Codename "Cherry Stone". A flying bomb.’
    ‘Flying bomb?’
    ‘A rocket, I believe. Boffins at Bletchley Park tapped into